


Sparkle and glow

by spiffycups



Category: Baahubali (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-26 15:03:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12061419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiffycups/pseuds/spiffycups
Summary: The points of light that guide Baahubali's story forward.





	1. Chapter 1

“Why walk around fire?”, mused Baahubali one evening. “Why not water, or wind, or earth?”

Sivagami Devi supplied the answer. “Elements though they all be, in fire we perish. When your body burns on that funeral pyre, that fire separates you and your wife. Until that fire, you are bound together. So you swear in front of your last enemy, that you shall face everything until death comes calling.”

He resumed his reading lessons.

 

 ----------------------------------------------------

 

It was time to reveal themselves. Baahubali was not sure if he was supposed to rejoice or resent the victory.

Devasena grabbed the nearest torch and hit him squarely in the chest with it. The fire melted away his paltry fabric to reveal the chainmail underneath. Kattappa made the necessary introductions to the kneeling army of Kuntalans.

Pushing his thoughts away, he looked at Devasena. She was still wearing her quiver, the slanting arrows gleaming in the firelight from the guards’ torches.

“Come with me as my prisoner, Devasena.” He requested softly.

“If you ask me to come with you as your _daasi_ , I will gladly follow you into the jaws of death. But to give up my dignity and go with you as a captive- that is impossible”. He wanted to bow to her self-respect, but he had a reputation to guard.

“This moment onwards, until death separates us, I am yours, Devasena.” He declared solemnly. “I swear upon the principles my mother has instilled in me, that your respect and dignity will not be tarnished in any way.” He promised upon her hand. The light around them danced in the wind, bestowing more beauty on the bond that had just been made.

 

 ---------------------------------------------------- 

 

As daylight broke over the palace, the Queen of Kuntala said, “Prince, you are taking away the light of our lives.”

“This light is now my responsibility”, he smiled at Devasena. “Shall we, Princess?”

He carried her on his shoulders, and felt as though they were flying.

 

 

  ----------------------------------------------------

 

The Mahishmathi durbar was an architectural study in ventilation, lighting and sound. Words from the dais would resound amplified, while the ministerial seating was caved in a fashion to equalize the volume from all the chairs. It was in this quiet hall that Sivagami Devi ordered haughtily, “No one speaks to me in this fashion. Guards! Bind her and make her kneel!” The command was heard as though it was given to each person in the assembly.

“Any man that lays a hand on Devasena will face the wrath of Baahubali’s sword.” The words spoken in a conversational tone struck fear through the hearts of every soldier surrounding them. Not a man dared to breathe.

“Amarendra Baahubali! In front of you, there lie two choices. Do you want to stay in this slice of heaven that is Mahishmathi, or do you wish to marry this manipulative woman Devasena?” Sivagami’s face was nearly as red-hued as her saree. Her eyes blazed from kohl-lined eyelashes, speaking volumes to her nephew.

His choice had been made the night he took Devasena’s hand and made a promise.

 

 ----------------------------------------------------

 

The anthem was sung as the army displayed their prowess for the coronation. “Until the sun, moon, and stars shine”, he chanted along under his breath- it had always been his favourite line of the anthem.

As he led the troops in display, his fiancee’s words echoed in his mind. “Until the son shines; then it is darkness.” Devasena had made no secret of her dislike for the son of Bijjaladeva becoming king.

He stepped aside with military precision as Bhalla walked past him onto the throne. _‘We walk behind you, brother. Lead Mahishmathi on the right path, for we shall follow you anywhere you lead us.’_ He wished Bhalla could hear his thoughts. His brother took oath as Emperor, with God as his witness.

Sivagami Devi would not look him in the eyes when she placed the helmet on his head. He took his oath as Commander, with his mother as his witness, and the crowds erupted.

 

 ---------------------------------------------------- 

 

Bhallaladeva had always been a long-term planner. The popularity of his brother at his own coronation had cemented the idea that had been festering in his thoughts. _‘He cannot become king. Baahubali must die.’_

“Only Sivagami has the power to issue an assassination, Father. That must change”, he told Bijjaladeva.

“Change Sivagami?! Impossible!” exclaimed Bijjaladeva. “Sooner the sun shall rise in the west!”

“The sun shall not rise in the west, but I will bury it in the east.” He stroked his crown lovingly. ‘Mine, and mine alone. You shall grace no other head.’

 

 ----------------------------------------------------

 

“Devasena, are you upset that you cannot marry a king?” Baahubali asked with genuine concern.

“Kings never respect their wives enough- look at Ram, look at Yudhishtir. One exiled his pregnant wife, and the other gambled her away. You promised me my respect and dignity, and it is that Prince of Mahishmathi that I am marrying, isn’t it?” her demeanor was certain and reassuring, but he still fidgeted in his seat.

“I am only a Commander. I will never be a King. You have given up Kuntala’s throne to come to Mahishmathi, and I cannot promise that you will become queen, Devasena.” He fervently hoped she understood the fragility of his position.

“Baahu! I came here as a prisoner! I followed you everywhere, and I will not leave you, even if you are penniless and homeless.” She took his face in her hands, and rubbed her forehead against his. “You promised me you were mine forever. I remember. You swore to me. Stick to the promise you made me.”

He found his pre-wedding jitters melting away in the force of her devotion.

 

 ----------------------------------------------------

 

The priest recited 10.85 of the Rig Veda, an allegory for the wedding about to take place.

Indira was her maid of honor, and her sister-in-law lead her to the stage. Devasena’s robes were glimmering with gold and inlaid stones, and the hall quieted for a minute to admire the ethereal beauty who was to marry their prince. Baahubali turned and smiled at her, at once reassuring and exciting her. She could not but smile back; a very picture of perfection. She ascended the steps and came to sit at his right.

The priest lit the ceremonial fire in the yagna-pit and recited the mantras. As the time approached, they stood up, and she linked her little finger in his, holding on tight. The saptapadi would be the final marker on their courtship, and as she followed him, they recited their vows in calm and clear voices.

The priest prompted them. “O Lord Indra! May you bring together this newly married couple in the same manner as a pair of chakravaka birds; let them enjoy marital bliss, and along with their progeny, live a full life.”

Amarendra Baahubali took the first step around the fire. “You will offer me food and be helpful in every way. I will cherish you and provide welfare and happiness for you and our children.”

Devasena took her first step.  “I will take the responsibility for our home and all household, food and our finance”.

He took the second step. “We will protect our house and children together”. 

She followed his path. “I will be there by your side as your courage and your strength. I will rejoice in your happiness and in return, you will love me solely.”

His third step was accompanied by his third vow. “We may grow healthy and prosperous and strive for the education of our children and our children shall live long.”

She responded, “I will love you for the rest of my life, as you are my husband. Every other man who exist in my life will be secondary. I vow to remain chaste.”

He took his fourth vow. “You have completed me and brought sacredness into my life. May we be blessed with noble and obedient children!”

She promised in return, “I will shower you with joy and will strive to please you in whichever way I can”.

The halfway mark reached, he glanced over his shoulder at her. She smiled at him, expectant and earnest. Nodding, she gestured for him to go on.

Fifthly, he said, “You are my best friend, and my only well-wisher. You have come into my life and enriched it.” 

She replied, “I promise to love and cherish you for all my life. Your happiness is my happiness, and your sorrow is my sorrow too. I will trust you and honor you, and will strive to fulfill all your wishes”.

 His penultimate vow was a proposal. “Now that we have taken six steps together, you have filled my heart with immense joy. Will you do the kindness of filling my heart with such happiness at all times?”

“I will always be there by your side”. Devasena’s sincerity shone through in her eyes.

The fire crackled and wavered, reminding the priest to pour more ghee into it. Kindling the flames, he gazed up expectantly at the couple, who were on their last vow.

“We have become husband and wife, and are one. You will be mine and I will be yours for eternity.”

 “With the witness of the Almighty, I am now your wife and we will love, honor and cherish each other as long as we live.” Finishing her vow, she took up his left side, a little closer to his heart.

The kingdom showered petals on their bowed heads, and beneath the onslaught of the flowers, Amarendra caught his wife’s eye and beamed with happiness.

 

 ----------------------------------------------------

 

Even when they lived amongst the villagers and slept under the stars with nary a blanket to cover themselves with, Baahubali upheld his promises to her.

Whatever little food Devasena was able to scour up for them, he marked away a portion for her from his plate, and fed her lovingly. She stretched every coin they had, bartering her own labour sometimes when he was up on the hills. The villagers were near tears when she offered to work in their fields, and she had to use her frightening glare to extract a promise that Amarendra would never hear of it.

Wiping down their shovels one evening, she reflected on their situation.

“What worries my princess this moonlit night?” he murmured from behind her.

“Am I still a princess?” her voice, although teasing, belied the worry behind it.

“No, that is not the proper title anymore. I forgot forgive me.”

Devasena smiled sadly, balling her fingers into a fist.

“You are my queen, aren’t you?” Amarendra laughed and lifted her up, nuzzling his beard against her waist.

“Stop! No, that tickles! Your beard- it tickles!” she was soon laughing so much that she forgot what she had started to worry about.

 

 ----------------------------------------------------

 

 

“As long as you are alive, I cannot die at any man’s hands, Mama!” Amarendra laughed on the mountain. He had repeated that line so many times that they could not remember who had started saying it. Clutching his sword tighter, he swung high, beheading the attacker. The firelight from the torches mounted against the rocks flamed shadows across his face, frightening his soldiers who were only feebly shivering.

As the last of them died, Amarendra arched up. A sword was plunged through his chest. He knew who was killing him but knowledge did not lessen his anguish.

Not understanding the pain, not understanding the blood, _not understanding why_ , he screamed into the soulless night.

Amarendra looked down, heaving a gust of breath as his heart pumped furiously. The blood staining his torso was running rivulets down to his thighs. He had expected to hold Mahendra in his lap tonight, and wondered if by any miracle he could see his son now- for the first time, for the last time.

Maybe Kattappa could bring Mahendra to him. He would do it, he would understand his need to see his child. He searched, and found Kattappa’s lined face a masterpiece in sorrow, in guilt, in grief.

 _'Not enough time’_ , he knew without asking.

He had left Devasena mid-labour. He had told her he would return right away, and he could almost see her face pleading with him to not leave her side.

She had ached and heaved, thrashed and cried. He had held her hand through most of it, until he was called away. She had shouted after him, “Upon your word, Amarendra!”

As his chest trembled, Amarendra tried to regulate his breathing. With shallow breaths, he apologized to her. “I failed my words, Devasena. Not just tonight, but also our wedding vows; that which I swore to you upon fire- I breached those promises.”

Under the twinkling night sky, Baahubali took his last breaths alone. He no longer had the power to vocalize. He recalled their wedding vows and thought forcefully, _‘I protected my home and child to my death. Now you must, Devasena. Safeguard our child and raise him well. We were healthy, and briefly prosperous. Our child must live long, even if not us.’_

As his eyes closed for the last time under the dying embers, he chuckled at the self-fulfilling prophecy. The last thing he saw was a spark that flew off the fire beside him and landed near his hand. The fire upon which he had promised her, the fire around which she had promised him, was the same fire that would light his pyre. _‘Well, Sivagami Devi is never wrong’_.


	2. Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you would like to, listen to this while reading it. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1ZkgrWfcdQM

On the vast plain hills, Amarendra died.

Impaled on his teacher's sword, his life force gave out. If he called his killer 'uncle', did that make it better or worse?

The man who fed him, who helped him snag his soulmate, the man who promised to hoist his unborn child onto his shoulders and show him a thousand moons- that man killed him.

 

The child that cried out at the base of the hill, and whose father cried out at its peak. 

Two echoing screams, unanswered.

One the beginning of a life, the other its end.

 

Amarendra clutched at his heart, the foolish organ beating itself ferociously to death.

 

One last time, one small moment, if he could hold on, could he see Mahendra?

He had not asked for anything since he had been a boy. Anything he had wanted for the last decade,  _ (the last decade of his life) _ , he had taken or had it bestowed on him. But he wanted to  _ ask _ , once more. Submit to a higher power and beg for a wish to be granted. 

He was out of practice with begging. A king, exiled, murdered-  did not beg for his life. Did not beg for mercy. He did not want to. That was not who Amarendra Baahubali was.

But he wanted to beg once, to see Devasena and Mahendra one last time. As a husband and a father, he wanted to fall on his knees and plead to see his family. His own little world within the harsh cruel world outside.

He would not get this little mercy. 

His family would go on without him. 

His son would grow up without him.

 

The prince died alone and penniless on the hill top, on a hard bed of boulders in the warm air that wouldn't stop blowing pain into his open wounds.

 

Tears welled up behind his eyes, but what was the point of crying when no one would come to comfort him?

 

As alone as he had always been, the orphan Amarendra drew in a last shuddering breath and died holding it within his lungs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sorry at all. Leave me a comment? :D

**Author's Note:**

> I was intrigued by the idea of Bhalla asking Devasena to die with him in the fire pit. Thinking back, although Sivagami's tale is propelled by water, Amarendra's is driven by fire.  
> The wedding vows are translations from 10.5 of the Rig Veda, including the instruction that the wife shall move to the left side of the husband at the end.  
> Thank you for reading. Leave me a comment please :)


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